Chapter 9
The sound increased in volume and seemed to surround her. What was happening? The entire ground rolled, and she dropped to her knees.
A loud series of sharp pops and grinding rumbles blew through the space with enough force to hurt her eardrums.
Run. She had to run. So she jumped up and forced her legs to move. Now.
She didn’t think about how she ran or where. She just moved. Her boots slipped on the wet stones, and her balance deserted her. Dust sucked into her lungs, and she coughed out as many particles as she could. She gagged and kept going.
Her light bounced everywhere. Walls. Floor. Ceiling. Nothing steady. Nothing helpful.
Another crack erupted overhead.
She slipped, her arms windmilling, and a shard of slate slammed down where her head had been. The material shattered and exploded outward. Shards sliced across her sleeves, shredding the material. Pain blazed through her arms and vanished under the rush of adrenaline.
“Go, go, go,” she muttered, trying to get her legs to move faster. She could hear Bulwark ahead of her, barreling through rocks with the power of a machine. “Bulwark!” she yelled. Her voice sounded small in the tunnel. “Slow down.”
He didn’t.
The ground dipped and she nearly went down. Her knee slammed into rock and white-hot pain shot up her leg. She screamed and pushed herself back up, limping now. Where was that staging area? She needed more space than this to shift into a wolf.
The mine shuddered harder.
The supports gave way behind her with a roar so loud it punched the air out of her lungs. She stumbled forward, gasping, her hands flailing until she hit the wall. The skin burned on her palms, and she let the pain ground her. Focus her. She had to survive this.
Her breath wouldn’t come right.
Too fast. Too shallow.
She forced it. In. Out. In—
The entire world tilted around her.
“Oh no.”
The tunnel narrowed and real panic roared through her.
She had to get out of there but could barely see Bulwark ahead.
Her foot slipped in water. Her arms windmilled, and she barely caught herself.
Panic roared through her, and her heart hammered so hard she thought it might actually break her ribs.
She heard water running now. Somewhere close. Was that bad? She couldn’t remember. “Where are we going?” she shouted.
“Left,” Bulwark said, not even turning.
Of course.
She followed because stopping meant dying.
The left tunnel felt worse immediately, like the walls were closer and the ceiling lower. She tripped again and this time went down hard, trying to catch herself with both hands. Pain ripped through her palms, and she sobbed once before shoving herself back up.
She didn’t want to look at her hands but could feel the dirt mixing with her blood on her palms.
The sound changed with less cracking and more groaning. Long, drawn-out stress noises that made her stomach churn.
They burst into a chamber, and the ceiling sagged.
Bulwark slowed.
She nearly collided with him. Then she saw a real light. Natural. There was a thin break in the wall where daylight pushed through and showed snow clinging to the edges. Cold air spilled in to wash over her, sharp and clean. Her chest hitched painfully. “There,” she said. “That’s—”
Bulwark instantly ran in that direction. She turned to follow, and her foot caught on something, twisting painfully. An edge in the rock? She cried out, but he didn’t stop.
He wasn’t going to help her. Crying in earnest now, she forced herself to stand. The mine shook again, violently enough that she staggered sideways and barely caught herself on a broken support that immediately dissolved under her weight.
Rocks, boulders really, dropped from above her. Panicking, she turned away, protecting her head. More crashed down, blocking the way. Dust billowed out. She retreated as shards dropped, cutting into her hand.
There wasn’t room to shift.
The roof rumbled above her. She turned and ran deeper into the tunnels, away from that opening and Bulwark, pivoting blindly and trying to avoid the dropping slate. Her boots skidded. She fell once and scraped her hip before struggling to stand again.
Her coat snagged and she yanked the fabric, tearing it. She shoved her shoulder into the gap and twisted sideways, her ribs scraping rock hard enough to knock the breath out of her.
Something collapsed behind her.
The sound was enormous. Deafening.
She screamed and shoved harder.
Her palms burned as slate sliced into them. Blood made everything slippery. She nearly lost her grip and panicked, kicking her legs uselessly for a second before she found purchase again.
Light flashed ahead. “Nadia!”
She paused, her ears ringing. “Caidrik?”
He burst through a series of rocks. A helmet tilted on his head, and boulders fell behind him. “This way.” Without losing stride, he ducked, tossed her over a shoulder, and spun.
She shut her eyes to keep from getting dizzy. “I can run.”
Yet he ran faster. Faster than she could imagine. They twisted and turned, moving fast, and then suddenly, they were outside in the falling snow. He flipped her over onto her feet, holding her arms. “Are you okay?”
Numb, she looked up at him. Snow fell onto her face. “Where did you come from?” she coughed, her throat raw with dust.
He planted his hands on his hard thighs and leaned over, coughing out dirt. His helmet fell and crashed onto the snow. Finally, he stood and wiped off his mouth. “We’re on the south side now. I accessed an alternative entry tunnel.”
Gaping, she turned almost in slow motion to see another ramshackle entrance to the mine. “How did you know there was a viable tunnel to use?”
“Looked at a mine schematic after Bussy warned me where you were,” he admitted, his voice rough.
The snow dotted his black hair and mingled with the dirt on his skin, forming a muddy paste that slid down the hard angles.
“I didn’t want to leave you in a mine with my asshole of a brother. ” He angled his head. “Where is he?”
“He went the other way.” She coughed out particles as her lungs revolted.
Caidrik stilled, looking more imposing than the rising trees around them. “He left you?”
“Yeah.” Everything hurt, but she didn’t care. Caidrik had come for her.
Alone in the conference room, Caidrik stared at the perfect oblong-shaped piece of slate.
He picked it up and studied it, turning it slightly between his fingers.
Yeah, it was a good one. The material was smooth where it had broken clean instead of shattering, was dense without being brittle, and was the kind of stone that held together under pressure.
He glanced up as Nadia stepped inside, a cup of coffee in her hand. Her hair was still damp at the ends, darkened from the shower, and a strawberry scent followed her in. He straightened immediately. “Hey.” There had been so much dirt on her earlier, he hadn’t gotten to really study her.
“Hi.” A large purple bruise spread across her right cheekbone, stark against freshly scrubbed skin.
He winced. “Did you get hit by a rock?”
“You could say that,” she muttered. She gestured toward the table. “I gave that sample to Solomon before I headed home to take a shower. That mine was abandoned but needs to be reopened quickly, right?”
He stepped closer without thinking, grasped her chin gently, and ran his thumb over the bruise. The heat of her skin contrasted with the cool trace of water still lingering there. “This is smooth.” A rock would’ve cut her. “Did Bulwark do this?” His voice softened as he controlled his temper.
She blinked once. Then twice, her pupils narrowing. “I don’t really want to…”
“I don’t care,” he said. “Answer me.”
She exhaled through her nose. “Let’s just say we didn’t get along.”
Caidrik ran his hands down her arms, checking her without making it obvious. Clean skin, steady muscle, no flinch. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”
“No,” she said, and the honesty in her tone settled something in his chest. “It was one little dispute.” She shuffled her feet, reached back for the table, and hopped up onto it. “Has he been found?”
Caidrik shook his head. “No. It appears as if several tunnels collapsed, and the rescue team hasn’t found him.” Maybe the asshole was dead. Oh, their mother would be hurt, but life would probably be better. Bulwark had harmed Nadia, which meant he should lose his hands.
Nadia swung a leg. “Um, thank you for coming for me. For getting me out of there.”
“Always.” He meant the word.
She licked her lips. “How was your outing with Taryn?” Her voice tipped at the very end, just enough to make her sound a little jealous.
He tried to enjoy the jealousy, but irritation still caught him.
He pushed down the anger rising in him at the thought of his brother daring to hurt her.
He would deal with Bulwark the second he saw him, if the jerk survived the tunnel collapse.
That reckoning was coming. But for now, Nadia was here and still breathing.
“Yes, we came through ours just fine.” He wasn’t supposed to share the information, so he didn’t.
Their challenge had been fish and food related, planning for shortages in case famine ever touched the wolves.
They had solved it well together. He had to admit Taryn was smart and solid, and she had a good spirit.
She was not the one for him, that much he knew, but she would make a fine addition to the pack and probably a good mate for someone.
For now, his focus stayed on the female in front of him. “When’s your next challenge?”
She rolled her eyes. “In about an hour, before it gets dark. What about you?”
“Not until tomorrow,” he said. So much for giving the female a break. “With you.”
“Hey, grand.” She huffed. “Do you have any idea what ours is?”
“No.”
She scowled. “Solomon won’t tell us until it’s time.”
“Yeah,” he said. “He’s enjoying this, isn’t he?”
“I think so,” she muttered.